


Happy Valentine's Day

by blubuddi974



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Bath Time, Head Injury, Hospitals, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mischief, Rick Grimes in Lingerie, Rick likes to toy with Daryl, Valentine's Day, i ain't good at writing smut, it's not too naughty tho, its nothing explicit, just people being douchebags, mild homophobia, not Daryl or Rick, they on a date y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 06:23:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17782244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blubuddi974/pseuds/blubuddi974
Summary: Their fifth Valentine's Day together was supposed to go exactly to plan, but, uh, Spoiler Alert, it didn't. But then again, when does anything? And even though their night was interrupted by a call from Lori and trip to the Hospital, Rick and Daryl would never call this date anything less than perfect.





	Happy Valentine's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all! I wrote this in like the span of a couple days, so mind that there may be some mistakes, and also that Rick and Daryl might sound a little bit OOC, especially towards the end, but I figured, they've been together for five years, they're bound to have some personality changes from being together so long. And even without that excuse, I'm a romantic damn it, I can make anybody say anything I want, and I want them to be so romantic it's gross, all right? Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

“Are you ready yet?”

Daryl’s voice is borderlining annoyed as he calls up the stairs and Rick snickers to himself. “I can’t find a pair of socks,” he replies.

“Did you check the hamper?” 

Rick pauses; no, he didn’t. He steps away from his dresser and to the hamper that sits on the bed, and right on top is a matching pair of his socks. He purses his lips, feeling a little stupid, and grabs them and his shoes and puts them on before going downstairs and greeting his boyfriend with a kiss. “I’m sorry, I’m an idiot.”

Daryl hums in agreement, and laughs when Rick punches him in the shoulder. “I told you I put them on the top of it when you were in the shower.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t listenin’,” he teases, wrapping his arms around his torso.

The hunter snorts. “Obviously.” He grabs his keys and jerks his head towards the door. “C’mon, let’s go, we’ll miss our reservation if we wait too long.” Daryl holds out his elbow and Rick takes it, and he leads them outside to the car.

“So, where are we eatin’?” Rick asks as Daryl opens the passenger side door for him.

With a sly smile, Daryl says, “You’ll see,” and shuts the door, then goes around and gets into the driver seat. Rick shakes his head and looks at him with a goofy smile. He himself pulled the same thing last Valentine’s Day, planned the whole day and told absolutely nothing to Daryl, keeping it all a surprise. Their first few Valentine’s Days together were a team effort, but their fourth one was when Rick decided to take the lead, and agreed to let Daryl take charge of their fifth. He flicks his gaze down his lover’s body, taking in his appearance. The hunter is wearing his grey suit, Rick’s favorite, with a white button down and the navy blue tie that goes with the suit that Rick wears, which means Rick is wearing the grey tie that matches Daryl’s suit. It’s something that they like to do to look more cohesive when they go out. 

“Can I get a hint?”

“Nope.”

“Not even a little one?”

“Nuh-uh.” Daryl shoots him a quick smile before his eyes settle back on the road. Rick rolls his eyes and smiles to himself, then turns his gaze out the window. He has an idea as to where Daryl’s taking him, but he can’t know for sure. Since it’s their fifth Valentine’s, he assumes that he’s going to take them to the restaurant they went to on their first, a quaint, little, family run fine-dining restaurant in Kingview, the next town over. But, when they drive past the exit towards Kingview, Rick is completely lost, and when he looks over at Daryl, his boyfriend is already smiling. “Thought I was takin’ you to Gina’s, huh?”

“I did.”

“Well, I ain’t.”

Rick huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, I can see that. Where are we goin’?”

Daryl shakes his head. “Not tellin’ you shit, Grimes.” The deputy makes a noise of mock disappointment and looks back out the window.

They drive for little over an hour, which explains to Rick why they left the house so early, and when they pull up to the restaurant, his jaw drops. “You did not.” Daryl just looks at him with a wide grin, his chest puffed out with pride. “How did you even do this?” Rick is in disbelief, how Daryl managed to get them a reservation at one of the best restaurants in Atlanta that is infamous for being totally booked all the time, not to mention on Valentine’s Day, is beyond him. Daryl, again, just looks at him with that smile of his and gets out, opens Rick’s door and shuts it when he gets out, then hands over the keys to the valet. They go inside and are lead to a free table in the packed room and shortly after, their glasses are filled with wine. Rick takes a sip of his wine and then rests his chin in his hands, looking at his boyfriend in disbelief. “I still can’t believe this,” he says, his voice low, “I feel like I shouldn’t be here.” He glances around the room at the other couples, most of them looking rather stuffy and all of them looking expensive. “Like I don’t look rich enough or like someone’s gonna yell at me if I talk too loud. How did you even get this reservation?”

Daryl smiles at him and sips his wine. “I have a friend who works here, he owed me a favor.”

Rick huffs, a smile tugging at his lips. “And how are you going to pay for this?” Rick looks through the menu. “There’s nothing on this menu less than a hundred dollars.” 

“I’ve been saving up for a while now,” he answers, “I can pay for it.”

The deputy smiles softly at him. “You know you didn’t have to do this, right?”

Daryl nods, gnawing at his lip. “I know, I just wanted to do somethin’ nice for you.”

Rick snorts. “Admit it, you just wanted to one-up me from last year.” His lover smiles and sips his wine. “Damn, I’m never going to be able to live up to this date.”

“Nope.”

Their waitress comes by not long after and takes their order, Daryl ordering a steak and Rick choosing a seafood dish, and the two of them go back to chatting about this and that; and they’re talking about Rick’s promise of fifty dollars to Carl if he has no cavities when they go to his upcoming dentist appointment when their waitress comes back not fifteen minutes after she left. She looks stiff, her spine straight and shoulders squared, and her jaw is set, like she’s angry but trying to stay composed. “I’m very sorry to disturb you, gentlemen, but I’ve received some…  _ complaints _ from a few other tables and have been told to ask if you would be okay if you were moved to another table.”

The two men stare at each other for a moment before Daryl turns to the waitress. “No, we would  _ not _ be okay with being moved,” he answers, his voice dangerously low, “We deserve to be here just as much as anyone else.”

The young woman nods once. “I agree.”

Rick reaches out to caress the inside of his lover’s wrist, and the other man takes a slow, deep breath, relaxing at his touch. “Would you please, in the most polite way, tell them to screw off and keep their noses out of other people’s business?”

The waitress’s calm facade is broken by a smirk for just a moment, before she composes herself again and nods. “Will do, Sir.”

Once she’s gone, Daryl sighs heavily, shaking his head, and takes a hearty drink of his wine. “I’m sorry, Rick. I guess I forgot how big of assholes people can be.”

The older man smiles. “Just ignore them,” he insists, “I was under the impression that all your attention would be on me tonight, and God be damned if I’m gonna let some rich douchebags take that away from me.”

Daryl smiles at him, amused and loving. It’s the smile that Rick loves the most, since it’s reserved just for him; all the others, his smirks, his wide grins, that small quirk of a half-smile, those could be for anybody, but not this one, this one’s all his. “I love you.”

Rick smirks. “Yeah, I know.”

His boyfriend kicks him lightly under the table. “Asshole.”

Their food arrives a reasonable time after and they dig in, talking between bites and stealing off each other’s plates. When their conversation transitions from Carl’s dentist appointment to Rick complaining about having to work night shift this weekend, the older man decides to take advantage of the unusually long tablecloth. He slides his right foot out of its shoe and touches it to Daryl’s ankle, causing the other man to look at him, his brows furrowed in suspicion. Rick feigns ignorance, continuing to speak about how he’d better not be paired with Ramirez because the man never stops talking, and begins to slowly slide his foot up his boyfriend’s leg. Daryl glowers at him and he pauses his foot at his mid-thigh, digging his toes into the flesh there for a moment. He watches, amused, as an embarrassed flush creeps up the hunter’s neck and continues his pursuit, sliding his foot up the rest of his thigh and applying the slightest bit of pressure when he reaches his groin, then taking it away completely and resting his foot against Daryl’s ankle when he feels him start to swell up.

He does this through the rest of their meal, applying more pressure each time, and by the time they’re finished, Daryl’s at least at half-mast. But before they can ask for their check, a dessert is brought to them, a slice of the most beautiful chocolate cake Rick has ever seen, but not by their waitress. “So you’re who’s been giving me so much trouble,” the auburn-haired man says teasingly as he places the plate on the table.

Daryl smiles at him. “Hey, Eric.” He then turns to Rick. “Rick, this is my friend, Eric, he’s the one who managed to get us the reservation. Eric, this is my boyfriend, Rick.” The two men exchange pleasantries and Daryl looks down at the dessert. “We didn’t order this.”

Eric shakes his head. “It’s on me. For your troubles, you know?” Daryl and Eric then get caught up in conversation, talking about what’s been going on in their lives since they last spoke, but Rick doesn’t bother listening, and instead decides to persist with his mischief. He skips sliding his foot up Daryl’s leg and surprises him by pressing down on his crotch with a lot more force than before, causing his lover to jerk under his touch and then kick him under the table. Rick turns his head and tries to disguise his laughter with a cough, and lifts most of the pressure off, but makes up for it by rubbing the ball of his foot up and down Daryl’s steadily growing erection. Daryl shoots him a quick glare, which he receives an innocent smile and more pressure in response, before he focuses his attention back on Eric.

Rick has conflicting feelings when Eric leaves, whisked away by a waitress who whispers urgently to him. Conflicting because he’s glad he’s gone so that they can get back to their date, but also a little disappointed because he can no longer toy with Daryl in front of his friend. Once he’s gone, Daryl turns his dark eyes on Rick and grips his ankle firmly. “Stop that,” he growls. Rick grins, holding the tip of his tongue between his teeth. Anyone else would have thought that Daryl was angry with him, but he knows better. Daryl isn’t angry. Those dark eyes and that dangerously low voice are tell-tale signs of his boyfriend’s hungry arousal, and Rick knows that, knows more than anyone. He presses down again only once, the touch lingering for a few seconds, then he takes his foot back and slips his shoe back on. Daryl looks at him with those dark eyes for a moment longer before grabbing his fork and taking off a large chunk of the slice of cake. Rick huffs out a laugh and picks up his own fork to also take a bite of cake.

When they get their check, Daryl doesn’t let Rick look at it, which is probably a good thing since Rick is sure he would have a stroke or something if he saw the total; then after it’s paid, they leave the restaurant, retrieve the car from the valet, and head home. Thankfully, the over an hour drive cools Rick's blood and he no longer feels the steady thrum of arousal that he did at the restaurant, and one look at Daryl tells him that it's the same for him. He's thankful for it because he didn't want to ruin the rest of Daryl's plans. Like, yeah, he expects sex to be part of said plan, but he doesn't know if Daryl has something happening before it and he wants this day to go as closely to plan as possible. “So, what's next?” Rick asks as they enter their home, toeing off their shoes at the door.

Daryl leads him into the kitchen and pulls down two glasses out of the cupboard and a bottle of wine out of the fridge. “This,” he says as he fills the glasses, then turns back to the fridge and pulls out a beautiful plate of chocolate strawberries. “And this.”

“Where did you even get these?” Rick asks, taking one.

Daryl chuckles and takes a sip of his wine. “Carol made 'em for me, dropped 'em off after we left.” Rick hums as he chews the delicious treat, chasing it down with wine. “Don’t eat all of ‘em, I’ll be right back.” The cop smiles as he watches his boyfriend go upstairs, taking the steps two at a time, then widens his grin when he hears the bath start running. Every previous Valentine’s Day had  _ ended _ with a nice hot bath, so he was interested to see where the rest of the night was headed if the bath comes next. He’s also excited for this bath since they remodeled their bathroom late last year and installed a bigger, deeper bathtub to better fit the both of them, but hadn’t had the chance to test it out until now. 

Rick only eats two more strawberries in the ten minutes that Daryl is in the bathroom, forcing himself to take small bites because he knows he could easily eat all of them if he wasn’t paying attention; and Daryl leads him to bathroom, wine and strawberries in hand. “Holy  _ shit _ .” The bathroom is immaculate, sparkling clean and pristinely tidy, looking straight out of a magazine or something. “The bathroom was definitely not this clean when we left.”

Daryl chuckles, placing the plate of strawberries and bottle of wine on the counter then taking the glasses from Rick and putting them down as well. “Let’s just say I owe Carol a few favors.” He slides Rick’s suit jacket off of his shoulders and tosses it onto the floor, then begins to press lazy, open mouthed kisses to his neck as he unbuttons his shirt, which he also tosses onto the floor once it’s off. Rick’s heartbeat quickens as Daryl presses up against his back and undoes his belt, and he waits for him to discover his little secret. When his lover unbuttons his slacks, the fabric slouches and black lace peeks out from underneath them. “What’s this?” he purrs, sliding his thumb under the hem, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Rick.

“Why don’t you find out?” There’s a rumble in Daryl’s chest as the zipper comes down and the fabric pools at his feet, revealing the cheeky/boyshort style underwear and pair of thigh-high stockings that match. Rick kicks away his pants and the socks he wore over the stockings to hide them, then turns around, blushing under his boyfriend’s dark gaze. “Since you were so nice to me last year, I figured I could return the favor.” A surprised squeak escapes him when Daryl suddenly hefts him up onto the counter, rattling the plate and wine glasses, making Rick laugh and urge him to be careful. 

Daryl kisses him hard, aggressive, and presses their bodies together. Rick reciprocates by wrapping his legs tightly around his waist, pulling him even closer. “I’ve never regretted a bath as much as I do right now,” the younger man says quickly before capturing his mouth again, “And I’m definitely puttin’ these back on you when we’re done in here.”

Rick smiles into the kiss. “I was countin’ on that.” He then pushes Daryl away with his foot and leans back on the counter, picking up his wine glass and taking a sip. “But you need to lose the clothes before our bath gets cold.” Daryl huffs and rakes his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face, before he starts to remove his suit, tossing each piece onto the pile of Rick’s clothes. The older man eats his strawberries and drinks his wine as he watches the slow strip tease, then, once the hunter is fully unclothed, he allows him to remove the stockings and lace panties, which he places on the other side of the sink instead of on the floor with the rest of their clothes.

They relax in the hot bath, Rick leaning back against Daryl’s chest, with their wine and strawberries, and the occasional wandering hand. They don’t share many words, not wanting to interrupt the softly playing music from the radio by the sink, but when they do, it’s just gentle murmurs, to keep the relaxing ambiance. When he finishes his glass of wine, Rick tilts his head back to rest on Daryl’s shoulder and places his hand over Daryl’s, which rests on his stomach, and laces their fingers together. He’s warm, and happy, and a little sleepy, and he wishes they could just lay like this forever. Rick opens his eyes and turns his head when he feels Daryl shift and then inhale, like he wants to say something, but before he can get any words out, Rick’s phone starts ringing. He groans, dropping his head back onto Daryl’s shoulder for a moment before he stands, getting out of the bath, and rooting through the clothes on the floor for his phone. “Can’t you just leave it?”

Rick shakes his head as he sees the caller ID. “Lori wouldn’t call unless it was important.” He presses the green button and then hold the device up to his ear. “Hello?”

“ _ Rick, Carl’s in the hospital, I need-- _ ”

“What?” Rick gasps, “Wh-- Is he okay? What happened?” The deputy grabs one of the towels and begins to dry himself off as he goes into the bedroom to get a change of clothes, vaguely registering the sounds of Daryl getting out of the bath and draining the water.

Lori sniffles. “ _ I’m such an idiot, this is all my fault. _ ”

“Lori, tell me what happened,” he says, rooting around in his drawers.

His ex-wife makes a few broken noises before she speaks. “ _ I was mopping the kitchen, because I dropped the fucking milk and the jug, like, exploded. And I should have just cleaned it up with towels, but the floor was long overdue for a mopping and I-- _ ”

“Get to the point, Lor,” Rick demands, pulling on his clothes.

“ _ Carl came running into the kitchen and slipped and hit his head on the edge of the counter.” Muffled sobs filter through the phone’s speaker for a moment. “He just collapsed, and  _ God _ , Rick, there was so much blood. It was like his head was a fucking faucet. I got him here as quickly as I could and now he’s got staples in his scalp and Shane’s looking after Judith and I just need you here,  _ please.”

“I’ll be there as soon I can.”

“ _ Thank you. _ ” Rick hangs up and finishes getting dressed, then grabs a pair of socks and his boots.

“What’s goin’ on?” Daryl asks, grabbing his own clothes and getting dressed rapidly.

“Carl’s in the hospital, split his head open, can you drive?”

Daryl nods and once they’re dressed, they’re in the car and heading for King County General. They’re directed to the correct room after a stop at the front desk, and Lori sits alone in the dimly lit room, staring at the teenage boy who lies in the bed, white bandages wrapped around his head. She wears the top to a set of scrubs, which Rick thought was odd, until he noticed the blood staining her jeans, which causes his breath to catch and his heart rate to speed up. She stands abruptly when they enter the room, hugging Rick first and then Daryl, before letting them sit in the two chairs to the right of the bed while she sits back down in the third on the other side. “He hasn’t woken up yet,” she says softly, “Not really. There were a few times where he was briefly awake, but he hasn’t actually woken up.”

“How long have you been here?” Daryl asks.

Lori shrugs. “About an hour and a half, I think. I got him here and they stapled his head shut and then had to see if there was anything else wrong, and then they put him in here and after a while, I called you because I couldn’t stand being here by myself and I thought you should know. I’m sorry if I interrupted your night.”

Daryl is the first one to shake his head. “Nah, it’s fine. We could’ve been in the middle of dinner and would’ve dropped everything to get here. Care too much about this idiot not to.” Lori snorts. “It’s only February and this is his second time in the emergency room.”

Lori smiles and looks at Carl. “Well, in his defense, this time wasn’t his fault.”

“It wasn’t yours either, Lor,” Rick insists, “It was just an accident.” She doesn’t respond, just worries her lip and wipes her nose with a tissue. “How long are they gonna keep him?”

The woman shrugs. “They want to wait until he wakes up to set anything in stone, but they’re pretty sure he has a concussion and want to keep him for at least the next two days.” They sit in the room for a few minutes in silence, looking at Carl lying asleep in the bed. “Do you mind if I leave for a little bit?” Lori asks, “I just want to go home so I can tell Shane what’s going and take a shower and eat something.”

The two men shake their heads. “No, go ahead,” Rick says, “We’ll be fine here.”

She nods. “I’ll just be a few hours, and then I’ll be back. Text me if he wakes up before I get back?”

“‘Course.” Lori nods again, then gathers her things and leaves the room after she presses a kiss to Carl’s bandaged head. After she’s gone, Rick slouches in his chair, trying to make himself comfortable, and ends up accidentally falling asleep. When he wakes up, he rubs his eyes and glances over at the clock, seeing that an hour has passed, then looks over at Daryl, who’s flipping through an old issue of People Magazine and looking  _ very _ bored. “Why’d you let me sleep?” he asks, his voice rough with sleep.

Daryl shrugs, closing the book and tossing it onto the night stand. “Thought you could probably use it,” he answers, “And I would’ve woken you up if anything happened with Carl.”

Rick nods and rubs his face, before sitting up and stretching his arms above his head with a groan, his back popping in a few places. He then settles back in his chair, leaning his head back on the back and looking over at Daryl. His boyfriend is chewing on his thumb absently, looking at Carl with distant eyes. The older man reaches over and takes the hand being abused, lacing their fingers together, and Daryl looks at him. Rick smiles sadly at him and kisses the back of his hand. “Sorry today didn’t go to plan,” he says softly.

Daryl shakes his head. “It’s okay. I meant what I said to Lori. Carl’s more important than a date.” Rick smiles at him, the look full of love and adoration, and Daryl pulls him into a kiss. “Besides, we still have tomorrow.” Daryl’s voice is hushed and low and he gives Rick a dark look before kissing him again. “I’ll be right back.” The archer then stands and goes into the connected bathroom, and Rick leans back against the chair and closes his eyes, letting himself start to doze. He’s pulled from his slumber when Daryl kisses the top of his head and wraps his arms around his shoulders, then nuzzles his face into his neck; and he hums happily when the other man starts sucking gently at his neck. Daryl places his left hand over Rick’s and laces their fingers together, then lifts his mouth from the deputy’s neck to brush his lips against the shell of his ear. “Open your eyes.” Rick does as he’s told, and the first thing he sees is a glimmer of gold. Then his mind processes what’s in front of him. It’s Daryl’s hand, holding an open black box that has two golden wedding bands nestled inside. With a soft gasp, Rick whips around to face his boyfriend. “I know we can’t just yet, but I’m willing to wait as long as it takes.” Throwing his arms around Daryl’s neck, Rick connects their lips in a passionate kiss.

“I’m guessing he said yes, huh Daryl?”

The two men break their kiss and snap their gazes on Carl, who watches them with a dopey grin on his face. Rick jumps to his son’s side, cupping his face with one hand and grasping his hand with the other. “How you feeling, pal?” he asks.

The teen hums. “Good. These pain meds are awesome.”

Rick chuckles. “Do you remember what happened?”

Carl nods. “I slipped in the kitchen.”

“Anything after that?” He hums again, his eyes slipping shut, and Rick pats his cheek to make him open them. “Eyes open, bud.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, do you remember anything after you fell?”

“Uh… Just bits and pieces. Like I remember Mom and Shane getting me in the car, and then watching the ceiling and the lights when they wheeled me down the halls.” He lolls his head over to look at the seat Lori was sitting in before she left. “I also remember seeing Mom sitting in that chair over there, is she still here?” 

“She left a little bit ago to shower and change, but she’ll be back soon.” Rick opts not to tell his son about the amount of blood that had dried on Lori’s clothes, thinking that it’s not that important for him to know. “Speaking of.” Rick turns to Daryl. “Babe, will you text Lori and then go get a nurse?” The hunter nods and exits the room, phone in hand, and Rick turns back to Carl, keeping him awake and talking until the nurse comes in. She checks him over quickly and then goes to get the doctor, who talks to Carl for a while, asking him a variety of questions, and after he’s done, discusses everything with the three of them, including his symptoms, his treatment, and the length of the stay in the hospital. The doctor leaves after they’re finished talking and the three of them are left alone.

“You never actually asked, you know,” Carl says.

“What do you mean, bud?” Rick asks.

“Daryl,” he explains, “He didn’t actually ask you to marry him.”

The two men chuckle, and Daryl turns to him and takes his hands. “Rick,” he begins.

“Yes?”

“Your son is an asshole.” The both burst into laughter and Carl rolls his eyes. “No, okay, seriously.” Daryl takes a deep breath and stares into his eyes. “Rick. I, in all of my forty years of being alive, have never loved someone as much as I love you. I’ve also never  _ been _ loved by someone as much as you. This relationship has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I would be the happiest I’ve ever been if you would marry me.” Rick cups his face and brings their lips together in a tender kiss, both of them smiling into it.

“You still didn’t ask, technically,” Carl mutters.

“Jesus Christ. Rick, will you marry me, if only to satisfy your drugged-up asshole of a son?” They both dissolve into giggles, making Carl huff and rolls his eyes.

Once their laughter dies down, they both straighten up so that Rick can give him his answer, and the older man smiles lovingly at Daryl. “Yes, of course I will,” he laughs, “And not just so Carl will shut up, but because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” They kiss once again and Daryl pulls out the box to get the rings out, and they exchange them, slipping them onto each others fingers. Rick then holds his left hand out to admire the ring and looks over at his new fiance with a soft smile. “I love you.”

Daryl returns the smile. “I love you, too.” The two men share yet another kiss and Carl groans.

“All right, I’ve had enough, go be gross somewhere else,” he says.

They share a laugh and then another kiss before settling back into the chairs and holding hands, and Rick looks over at him. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Daryl.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Rick.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading my gross, hot garbage, I loved writing it. I also hope it wasn't too hard to read, I tend to write long sentences and I'm trying to fix that, but I'm not sure if it's working. I'd love to know what you thought of this, and if you'd be interested in reading more of my hot garbage, I have a few WIPs on the back burner right now that I'm trying to work on, most of which I'm really excited to share. 
> 
> Oh, and if your curious, the fictional town 'Kingview' (mentioned at the beginning) is part of my imagining of King County. The county is canonically pretty small, I think, and so I made up four towns to make it up, Kingview is the more modern city, with the highest population (~10,000); Kingsford is where Rick and the gang all live, and it's more of like a standard small town (population ~7,000), and then there's Kingwood, a backwoods town surrounded on most sides with forest, and Kingsport, a fishing town on the Flint River, both much smaller (populations ~5,000). I thought it'd be stupid and hilarious to name every city with King at the front bc they're in King County, it's dumb, I know, but I liked the idea of actual towns instead of just saying 'They're from King County!'
> 
> Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read this, and I hope you liked it. Bye!


End file.
